Red Scarf
by Commander Zia
Summary: Gokudera visits the grave of someone important to him; the grave of a friend. not yaoi !set in the future!


Please note that this is slightly in the future, when our dear storm guardians are much better friends then they are now. Also, THIS IS NOT YAOI. I am not against it, but this is a friendship, not romantic story. Please R and R and enjoy!

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The grass is green.

The grass is moist, and is squishes silently beneath my feet as I walk forward quickly, my breathing short and quick in the cold morning air. I use my left hand to tighten the red scarf that covers neck and mouth, my right hand still gripping tightly the small dull blade.

My feet pace in between the low, gray stones methodically, beating a path they've beaten so many times before small patches of dirt were now visible beneath the grass, creating a small walkway from the entrance of the cemetery to his grave stone.

"I'm here again." I call out evenly, a faint smile stretching my lips. I don't even glance down as I reach the small stone I'm looking for, but I sit down on the wet ground, the moist grass squishing beneath the bottom of my black suit pants.

When I finally get settled I glance forward to the small stone still glistening with dew. Leaning forward slightly I trace a small, dry patch with my glove over the words that stand out, in slightly bigger text from the others.

"You were the storm," I read quietly, though I didn't really look at the text; my eyes blurred slightly with unshed tears but I'd read the words so many times I knew them by heart. Sometimes I'd wonder if this is what the ninth would have put on my grave stone, when the time came. But today I just traced the words back and forth with my fingers, the small crooked blade still clutched to my palm.

"You were the storm. You were the heart; the fierce attack that never rested."

"May you now rest in peace," I finished in a whisper, barely audible now, blinking quickly so as to keep the unshed tears unshed. After a quiet moment I let out a small laugh, bringing the small blade in my hand up to my face, twirling it slowly and examining each small scratch, each small rusted blood stain.

"You should be glad you died," I started, my eyes still glued to the small blade. "You would have hated the funeral. The ninth himself came to talk about how brave you were, giving you life for the sake of the Vongola after all the trouble you've had."

Finally letting a small stream of tears escape, I use my left hand to bring up the ends of my scarf to wipe them away, quickly and awkwardly as if there was actually someone around to notice.

"Even Xanxus spoke. He said you were a fucking bastard who deserved to be dead, and believe me the rest of the Varia were no better." Chuckling sadly I smile a little, adjusting my feet, which had started to fall asleep slightly. "That might have been the most depressing of the speeches though. It was easy to tell how much they care about you. We all do."

Suddenly reaching into my back pocket, I bring out a small stone. It was rounded and yellow; a bright static yellow that would have seemed out of place against the gray stones if it hadn't been him, because the stone was the same yellow as his hair had been. I tossed it up into the air, before sighing and tucking it back into my pocket, once again feeling tears threatening to break through. I'd been planning to finally leave the stone here, to finally let go, but as always I couldn't bring myself to.

"I bet you want to just come down here and rip our throats out, huh." I say, again smiling awkwardly. "You'd come down and kill us all and you'd have every right to because you were the prince."

At a rustling behind me I suddenly whip around, but at the sight of a small, blonde adult woman and who I could only assume was her husband I relax, turning back to the gravestone.

"I have to go now, I suppose." I say quietly, aware of the couple only three or four rows of head stones behind me.

Quickly unwrapping the red scarf from around my neck I lean down to leave it in front of the small stone.

"You lent this to me the day before the battle- I guess I should return it."

Just as I'm about to let the piece of cloth go a strong gust of wind catches it, sending it back up and into my face. A small cry comes from the couple behind me, but I smile a little, re-wrapping the scarf around my neck.

"Alright, alright, I'll keep it."

Turning around and stuffing the blade into my back pocket I take one last glance at the grave stone before turning around and swiftly walking out of the cemetery. When I reach the sidewalk outside I put up my hand to hail a cab but again a large draft of wind catches the ends of the scarf around my neck, blowing them up into my face and sending me back a few steps.

As I finally pry the cloth from my face I smile widely, turning around and down the street to walk home instead.

"Fucking storm bastard."

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Did you like it? My second Gokudera drabble of the day- I swear I'm on some sort of roll ;D I apologize for whatever horrid mess-ups I made- I'm planning on working on my writing more from now one. Anyways, this is about Gokudera and Bel if you couldn't tell, though I pray to Kira (lolz XD) my writing's better than that. Anyways, please review and tell me what you think! Thanks!

_Playlist_

_Mad World - Gary Jules_


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